To the Ends of Paradise
by Jolis Mots
Summary: "I know what I want. I am not some little girl with flitting fantasies and dreams of flowers and dresses. I want Loki. I love him. And he loves me. There is nothing else more than that and there is nothing else after it." Sent to Asgard to learn to be the kind of princess Vanaheim needs, Sigyn not only grows into her own, but also grows on a certain Asgardian prince. Loki/Sigyn.
1. Prologue

**(A/N): Set in Movieverse, pre-Thor. Mixed the comic with the mythology to fit the story I'm writing. **

**Though most people depict Sigyn a certain way, I would think that a girl who fell in love with Loki had a lot more facets than people gave her credit for. And with the depth the movies have brought to his character, I wanted to write a fanfic where it gave just as much to her. Also, this is the prologue, so if you have any questions, just know that the chapters will be more detailed :)**

* * *

Prologue

* * *

_"Do you think humans still worship us in Midgard? They probably haven't the slightest idea that Vanaheim is actually quite boring. Or that Odin isn't as wise as they say...I should think Loki's much more respected down there than up here. I hope they write about how brilliant he is and how much I love him. How––above all––I have always loved him. I hope even the mortals of Midgard know that.__"_

* * *

Asgard is grander than all the descriptions in all the books Sigyn has ever read. Nowhere in the text did it accurately describe the lushness of the greenery, the sparkling skies, the color spectrum of the Bifrost. The palace here was not odd and austere like back in Vanaheim, but is a massive structure of gold and brass that stand together like the pipes of an organ. Everything looked so perfect that it was strange. If she stared at something too long it suddenly felt out of place and foreign. Still, it far outweighed in aesthetic delight compared to her home where she spent endless years by the windowsill––bored of Vanaheim, bored of its heat, bored of herself...

She was well aware what they thought of her there. The youngest of King Iwaldi's children, always too busy with books, too headstrong to fit in. Here, as her mother hoped, she would learn to conduct herself in a more lady-like manner. To break out of this shell she had built around her.

_To blossom_, she had told her.

_Blossom_, Sigyn thought,_ as if I wither as quickly as a rose._

That was putting it mildly. A hunch told her that in all those words, what her parents meant to say that they hoped sending her a way would teach her a thing or two about propriety. And what better place than the most powerful realm in all the World Tree?

Nervously fiddling with the skirt of her dress, she takes a deep breath as the high doors open. Cerulean colored, the dress she wears trails longer in the back while the strapless top portion hugged her form from her chest to her midsection, accentuated with intricate gold designs. A personal favorite of hers that she had been saving for the right occasion. Being introduced to Asgardian court seemed fitting enough.

And while all the unfamiliar faces stand before her, her mind is suddenly reeling back to Vanaheim:

First, she's standing in the throne room in front of her father, Mother sitting next to him. They're telling her the reasons she is being sent away, the reasons she must grow up.

Next, she's in her own quarters, rereading all the books she was never supposed to read, glancing at all the pieces of her childhood that she cannot bring.

Then her mind jumps to the moment she's in the courtyard with Theoric (whom she'd hardly been able to see due to the political conflicts between their regions of Vanaheim). He's handsome as ever, all blond locks of hair and brown eyes. Maidens watch from afar in their little flocks, blushing whenever he glances at them. Theoric is brave and kind, and yet...there's something about him that Sigyn finds all-together boring. What Father and Mother had told her earlier replays in her head and she wonders if growing up will make her love Theoric more.

And all too soon, she is shoved back into the present––back in the ballroom in Asgard where warriors and lords and ladies are surrounding a wide space reserved for the guests being introduced, the announcer's voice echoing their names. Odin, Frigga, and their two sons stand at the head of the room while the newcomers walk up to them one by one, their names and titles being announced as they bow.

_Right foot, left foot, steady, steady, back straight, chin high...That's it. A proper princess. _Even all the way in Asgard, her mother's words are able to dictate her actions.

Others' gazes feel glued to her skin––stuck––as if she would never be able to be rid of their judgement. Trying her best to keep her poise, she is momentarily (but not noticeably) distracted by the horned helmet that sits on the younger Prince of Asgard's head, filling her with an entirely different kind of nervousness.

His eyes are on her. She can feel it more than anything else in the room; the same icy eyes that seem to change from blue to green to blue, again. The dark-green of his cape contrasts that glorious red of his brother's in the same way that the silver wings on Thor's head is different from the overwhelming horns of Loki's helmet.

Sigyn can recall with precision the first time she saw Loki. Years ago. She was still a child, in every sense of the word––small, meek, and all-too curious. She remembers that morning when Mother told her to wake early and get ready, that she had to wear her finest little dress and brush her unruly chestnut-colored hair, how she had to stand still at the front of the palace, smallest of all the Vanir children, and wait for the Aesir to arrive and be welcomed.

There were two princes, teenagers by Midgard standards. The strong, lion-like one and the slighter, dark-haired one. Even then, at the age of six, she could not take her eyes off the latter. Later, she had followed him to the garden when the officials sat in the council room, so fascinated with him in a way that she could not describe. Her interest in the prince grew when she watched as he plucked a flower from a bush, watching how it changed colors as it sat on his palm. She even remembers how he ended up enchanting it to become a butterfly and gave it to her as a gift.

The next time she saw him, she was fourteen. Instead of rushing down with everyone else and greeting the visitors properly, she had climbed a tree, sitting close enough to see the Aesir arrive and hear the formalities exchanged.

Loki was much older now, a man, truly a Prince of Asgard, though his hair was still the same raven-black from her childhood memories. On his head, he wore that infernal helmet with the overwhelming horns. By her age, she thought seeing him again would make her realize how silly she was as a child to have harbored a crush on him. Although, when she found him in the library an hour later and they spoke for hours about studies, books, and magic, Sigyn realized she liked him more than ever.

Now, at seventeen, was the third moment. And she can't help but smile a little when she catches his eyes go wide at the sight of her, and wider still as she takes a proper bow before the royal family, her title ringing through the massive room.

"Presenting Princess Sigyn Iwaldisdottir of the Vanir court, Goddess of Constancy."

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**(A/N): But wait, isn't Loki the God of Chaos? :P And don't worry about the beginning quote. Let it flow~**

** Feel free to ask questions and leave reviews or criticisms! Any questions you want answered right away, .com is my blog and I'm always on. Otherwise, leave them in a review or a message on :)**

**AND WASN'T THE AVENGERS OUTSTANDING? you know it was.**


	2. The Boy in the Garden

**(A/N): A few things I wanted to clear up:**

**For any of you that are familiar with the comics. I know there it says Freyja is Sigyn's mother, though in mythology, Loki did have a thing with her and I wanted to include that in this story so I changed things around. Also, those not familiar with the mythology: Iwaldi is a dwarf, but in the comics he is Sigyn's father. **

**It's all very confusing and so for the sake of my fanfic I hope it's clear that I made Sigyn's family Vanir and Freyja not her mother, but Asgardian. If you have any questions or confusions, don't hesitate to ask (either here on a review on , a PM if you have an account, or on my tumblr that I listed in the author's note in the prologue). Anyhow, I've just mixed everything all up :) I'm pretty much just picking names and placing them where I like.**

* * *

Chapter I

* * *

The hall went quiet. There's a few dramatic gasps here and there but for the most part, the Asgardians seem unsure of how to react, and Loki knows why. No doubt they expect her to be some sort of rival of his. But what did he have to fear from a child of Iwaldi? A Vanir girl? Besides, from what he remembered of her, they got on well.

Sigyn stands straight after bowing, Odin nodding and dismissing her as the next guest is introduced. He watches as she retreats and he's partially convinced himself that the reason his eyes follow her is _only_ because everyone else's are, too. (Except Freyja's, whose glare is narrowed in on him alone. She really was jealous quite easily. He made a note to talk to her later.)

Still. Who knew that scrawny child he met so long ago would grow up in a such a way?

He found it even more curious as to why she was sent to Asgard in the first place. Perhaps the God of Mischief would make it a priority to find out.

* * *

_Loki was not used to the humidity of Vanaheim. The heat seemed to be affecting Thor more than him. He hadn't broken a sweat yet himself whereas Thor looked uncomfortable with the weather. Not that it was unbearable. Asgardians were strong and tolerant, but compared to the perfect weather Asgard usually had, it was just another reminder just how far they were from home._

"_Enjoying the heat, brother?" Loki joked as Thor took a sip from his canteen. They rode in a bumpy carriage all the way from the Vanaheim portal towards the palace of King Iwaldi, leader of the Northernmost region of Vanaheim. Odin sat near the doorway, quietly reading over some documents or other as Thor and Loki sat across from each other, already weary of this diplomatic trip that their father had insisted they tag along on. At fifteen and sixteen, however, Odin thought them ready to start involving his sons so that they would be familiar with the political duties._

_Thor had retorted with something about how it wasn't his fault that Loki was less susceptible to higher temperatures to which Loki was going to reply with something much wittier, as always, when their carriage stopped and Odin had given them a glance that made the two princes remember where they were and why there were there._

_As they pulled in closer to the Vanaheim palace, Loki took note of how different it was compared to theirs in Asgard. Sandy-colored, it blended into the environment of Vanaheim very well. By no means did it impress the same kind of grandeur, but it had this strange aura, an overwhelming structure of stone bricks and ancient moldings. King Iwaldi waited at the palace entrance with his wife, children, and guards. _

"_Be nice to his children," Odin told them before they stepped outside, and both Loki and Thor understood. You never know which one of the King's heirs would they need to be allies with later on. The balance between the realms was always very delicate and Odin wanted to make sure they knew the importance of maintaining strong political standings._

_Odin greeted Iwaldi and his wife other like old friends. Iwaldi introduced his of children to Odin and his sons, whose ages ranged from the older boy and girls that were closer to his and Thor's age, to a little girl, who couldn't have been older than seven. Her pout and attitude that clearly depicted she would rather be elsewhere made her stand out from her siblings who acted cordially towards them._

_"There. Now you all know each other," Iwaldi smiled at the children, his tone light, yet his presence firm. He reminded Loki a lot of his father and he could see why Vanaheim and Asgard had had such great ties for the past couple centuries. "One day you'll be in the same places, discussing, hopefully, less dire issues if the King of Asgard and I can do this properly." Iwaldi laughed and turned to Odin, who was appeared amused as well, "I believe we have matters to discuss, old friend."_

_"That we do," and with that, Iwaldi led Odin into the palace, guards surrounding them as they disappeared behind the enormous copper doors. _

_The Queen remained behind with the children. "We welcome you wholeheartedly, sons of Odin, to Vanaheim. Feel free to wander the palace. Valandi, be a good host and show Thor and Loki to the armory." With that, she left them to it and followed after her husband and Odin to the council room._

_Loki did not miss the adoring looks Iwaldi's daughters gave Thor as Valandi, their older brother, lead Thor and Loki away. Before they were out of sight from the Vanir girls, Loki had noticed that the little one had disappeared suddenly and that no one but him seemed to notice._

At least she had the right sense to get away from all this as fast as possible, _he thought as Valandi was leading them around. He was about their age, the spitting image of the Queen. Though a prince, it was obvious at one look at him that he was not forced to partake in warrior training. The way he walked and the dismissive manner he waved his hands about, Prince Valandi seemed to Loki spoiled, tired, and not easily impressed. _

_The three boys were walking through the different halls and pathways of the Vanir palace, which was built in a way that the halls and courtyards weaved in and out so that you were inside at one point and then suddenly outside if you kept walking. Valandi went on and on about the history of the palace, the battlement, the warrior heroes. Thor was too enthusiastic about the subject and the promise of seeing the armory that he didn't even seem to notice the disinterested tone the Vanir prince used while he spoke, the lazy way he pointed at things, and the sleepiness of his gaze. Loki used Valandi's boredom and Thor's distraction to his advantage and slipped away quietly to look around by himself. _

_He found his way to the garden. Overflowing with exotic leaves and vines that went for miles, the garden was a place he thought would be ideal to be alone. And since he was by himself, he decided to practice a few of the transformation spells he had been learning back in Asgard. He found a bed of small white flowers and plucked one to place in his palm._

_Lately, he had been studying wordless spells as opposed to incantations because it would be easier to be able to perform magic––especially in Asgard––without announcing it with the ancient words he'd have to mumble. As he concentrated on one of the simpler spells, the flower began to change color, going from white to deep red, to lavender, to a shimmering blue. He smirked, knowing that his sorcery was improving everyday. Thor may have the advantage in physical strength and likability, but Loki took comfort in the fact there were things he could beat Thor at, even if those things were frowned upon in Asgardian society._

_He thought of taking the spells a bit further and was thinking of what to transform the flower into when he noticed he was not as in the garden as he thought. _

_As the flower continued to change color, he heard a gasp come from one of the statues. Or, behind it, actually. Loki's eyes darted from the flower and found a tuft of brown hair peeking from behind a porcelain statue. Surprised yet unmoving, the little girl remained shyly in her place until Loki approached her carefully, trying his best not to scare her off. He had enough people in Asgard thinking he was bizarre. He didn't need the children of a once rival realm to think it as well. Luckily, he was charming and had the talent to change his demeanor to what he wanted people to see. Most of the time._

_"Hello," he approached her, trying to sound as friendly as possible. "What was your name again?"_

_There was a long pause until she quietly replied, "Sigyn."_

_"Princess Sigyn," Loki said and held out his palm. "For you, My Lady."_

_The flower stopped changing color and instead gave off a warm, yellow glow. The petals started moving up and down and suddenly the pollen in the middle became a body and sprouted small legs. Soon, the flower started fluttering out of his hand and took the shape and nature of a butterfly. The frightened look on Sigyn's face slowly became one of awe and delight as the butterfly flew around her._

_When it landed on the back of her hand, she looked up at the Prince of Asgard and in her delicate little whisper asked, "How did you do that?"_

_"Magic," he had told her._

_"Magic," she repeated–as if the word itself opened up every wonder in the world._

* * *

While the event went on, Sigyn was approached by many, most of which were people that inquired about her family.

"And how is King Iwaldi, dear princess?"

"I hear your sister's engaged to an ambassador from Alfheim!"

"The Queen does have such impeccable taste in dresses. Did she pick that one out for you?"

"Do you remember me? We met on your brother's coming-of-age celebration! How is he? Such a handsome young man..."

In short, what everyone wanted to know about were people other than herself. Seemingly, the shadow that was cast over her in Vanaheim followed her to the highest corners of Asgard, too. The issue wasn't that she didn't know how to enjoy a party. Actually, she was always out in Vanaheim, always dancing, singing, getting lost in the atmosphere, stumbling back late to her chambers. Besides books, it was the only thing to take her mind off of how dull it was to be a princess there. But these types of things–the fancy dresses, the polite manners, well-lit ceilings, these where the places where her mother belonged, talking to ambassadors and nobility, following quietly after the King.

A future was already molded from her predecessors and now she'd have to force the fit. An uncomfortable mask she wore, this kind of life.

"...I was there, so obviously we won," Fandral flashed a white smile.

Sigyn realized she had not even been paying attention to half of Fandral's story. They (mostly Fandral) had been speaking to each other after the crowd that surrounded her had slowly swelled away. If she wasn't here to sharpen her social skills, she would have yawned already, maybe even left. She smiled instead. "I have no doubt, Lord Fandral. The tales of your bravery have reached even Vanaheim, I'm glad to tell you."

"Have they? Have they?" he let out a ridiculous laugh. "You flatter me, Princess Sigyn–"

A scoff. "You flatter yourself," said someone and Sigyn's spine tensed. Centuries had passed and his voice was recognizable from the depths of her memories. Joining them now was Loki, his staff at hand and that helmet on his head. With Thor always around, his height was somewhat dwarfed. Standing next to Fandral, she realized Loki was actually very tall.

Sigyn quickly composed herself and bowed. "My Lord."

"I should be bowing to you," he said as he humbly did so. "And please, Princess, there's no need for such formalities. Old friends, aren't we?" He turned to Fandral. "I believe Lady Amora requests your attention. You should see to her immediately. Women scorned are rather cruel in their sense of justice."

Fandral only rolled his eyes, but left anyway (fast and without fuss, Sigyn noted) and didn't seem to mind that Lady Amora practically latched herself on to him when he got near her.

"I'd beg you, Princess, to avoid men like Fandral," said Loki as they watched him shamelessly flirt with other women even as he had one arm around Amora.

"Men like him I can handle," and her thoughts went to all the warriors in her father's guard, all the local peasant boys and sons of lords that chased her the older she got. "I'm afraid the one you spared from unpleasantness was Fandral."

Loki looked amused. "Oh? And what happened to that kind child I remember visiting?"

"Well what does it look like happened?"

"She grew up it seems. And with a backbone." He was starting to see why she might've been sent to Asgard. The girl had a mouth and an attitude that he never came across often, especially in a woman of significant title. She reminded him of Lady Sif in a way, except Lady Sif wore her boldness and wit like her suits of armor whereas Sigyn wrapped hers in a disguise of youth and innocence.

She lifted up the goblet in her hand dramatically. "Top marks."

"Sarcasm isn't becoming of a lady of Asgard," Loki replied, feigning seriousness.

"Using magic to command your father's subjects when _you _were the one interrupting the conversation isn't becoming of a prince of Asgard." Sigyn decided to enjoy the look of surprise in Loki's reaction, biting her lip to keep from laughing. "Who was it that taught me about magic in the first place? You think I can't tell when someone's using a persuading charm? But don't worry. I can keep a secret," she smiled, though Loki could see a ferocity behind that coating of sweetness she put in her manners and it scared him a little. Or maybe he found it endearing. He couldn't quite tell.

She looked behind him and saw something that indicated she should be elsewhere. "It was nice seeing you again, Loki."

He turned to watch her walk away from him for the second time that night and saw Freyja watching from a distance, arms crossed. Loki sighed and hoped that that persuading charm was still working.

* * *

**(A/N): Oh, Loki. You would.**

**Hopefully Sigyn isn't so obviously laid out here. I wanted to make her somewhat strong, but still enough so that she could grow in later chapters. She is seventeen still, after all. And I wanted to give her an attitude because as much as this new place scares her, I think she's smarter than to let than faze her completely. I'd like to hear what you guys think about her if you decide to leave a review! :) I'm trying my best not to Mary Sue it all up.**

**So if you have any comments or suggestions, I will take them into consideration.**

**Thank you for reading and all your reviews!**


	3. Rivalries

**(A/N): Updated! Thank you ALL my reviewers. (and also to those of you who found me on tumblr! :D)**

**I really liked reading what you guys had to say as Sigyn as a character. They really help in shaping someone who gets mentioned as a Mary Sue all the time.**

**The POVs in this go back and forth, as they often will. Tell me if it gets confusing.**

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Chapter II

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"Over here!" roared Hogun as hounds led the party deeper into the woods.

Thor slapped Loki on the back as he and Fandral ran past him with a few others, excitedly making their way forward.

Loki found it pointlessly tiresome having to tread through the tall grasses, cut through branches, and get stuck in the damp soil for a few boars. Had he had his way, he'd be at the palace, in his room or in the library instead of out here with all his friends, that were really his brother's friends, looking for some pig they could stuff an apple into and lay on a feast table. But Thor had just begged him to go and Odin was just standing there _watching_, so what could Loki do besides oblige–stupid as it was?

When Volstagg saw the look on his face, he chuckled. "What's the matter, m'lady? The mud too much for you?"

"Your humor is most clever, Volstagg. How_ do you_ come up with the brilliance that escapes that witty tongue of yours?" Loki replied flatly.

"Have some humor yourself, brother!" called Thor, but Loki could hardly see any speck of amusement in galloping about in mud and leaves to chase pigs.

He was the God of Mischief.

Humor was his forte.

This was as far from humorous as Volstagg was to charming.

* * *

Her room in Asgard like the rest of the palace: obsidian floors so polished that she could see her reflection, brass-colored walls. The canopy bed in the middle of it matched the dresser where Sigyn sat. Maids came in every now and then to bring her trays of fruit, straighten her sheets, brush her hair. Most of them came and went without a word, save Elga, a woman only a little older than Sigyn, looks plain and manners friendly.

When Sigyn had first arrived, it had been Elga that helped her to her new chambers, helped her get ready for the introduction ball. And now it was Elga who offered her sound advice.

"The place is full of the ladies of court, today," she said, runninga brush through Sigyn's hair. "All the men are out on a hunt for the feast."

Sigyn took from that comment what she could. "All just us girls then?" Meaning it was the day she would have to establish her position socially among the women of Asgard, and if they were anything like the women in Vanaheim, this would take a lot of fake smiles and insincere compliments.

"That's right, m'lady."

By the dresser was the window, and from it, Sigyn could hear voices and laughter. When she instructed Elga to halt fixing her hair momentarily, she looked out, down into the courtyard. Below were a few young Asgardian maidens, some playing a blind fold game, others giggling and making exaggerated exclamations, a sight that was all so familiar to Sigyn that she let out an exasperated sigh.

"I've got to fit in with that? I might as well never have left Vanaheim. All that's left is them ignoring me to gawk at Theoric."

Elga said something that Sigyn didn't quite catch. "I'm sorry, it's just they're making so much noise down there. What were you saying?"

"Is he honorable?"

"Who?"

"Your betrothed, Princess Sigyn."

"Oh. I–I suppose. Yes. Yes he is. Why'd you ask that, Elga?"

"Was it the wrong sort of question to ask you, Princess?"

"Well...No. Not at all. Most girls want to know if he's handsome. How many riches he has. I've never had anyone ask me if he was honorable."

Elga set the brush down as she and Sigyn faced each other in the mirror. "Because those other things don't matter, Princess. Honor is the most important thing here in Asgard. Especially concerning a marriage."

"Yes, I've heard all about the bravery of Aesir men. But what about love?"

Elga's face lit up. "That, too. Maybe the most important."

"Then why didn't you ask if I loved him?"

"Do you, Princess?"

Sigyn kept silent.

"In engagements, love is celebrated, yes. Just not considered as highly. You could love him, sure. But as an honest maiden of the grand realm, m'lady, love doesn't matter much when it comes to arranging marriages." As Elga finished up her hair and cleaned the dresser, Sigyn remembered Theoric. She was lucky to have him, she knew. And they were good friends. Images of her father and Theoric's father shaking hands and the scroll of a contract popped into her head. She thought of Theoric kissing her that time they went to a masquerade and she avoided him the rest of the night and Mother setting the wedding date and picking out her dress for her. How dashing Theoric always looked and his romantic words to her and how they never made her feel a thing.

"It doesn't matter much in Vanaheim either," Sigyn said.

The maid smiled sadly before she went to open the door from her chambers to the hall, indicating that this conversation, all the thoughts in Sigyn's mind had to be sealed away, that they didn't exist in the outside world. "Come, Princess Sigyn. The kingdom awaits you."

* * *

Somewhere on the way back, the group Thor and Loki were travelling with (which consisted of about fifteen men and one Sif) took a rest stop. One of the men had brought out a few canteens of mead to chug on. Loki, instead of joining in on the drinking games, took it upon himself to do something useful. He realized that the forest was an ideal place to collect any ingredients he might need for potions or spells, sure to avoid the festivities the others were getting into.

When he gathered enough of the things he might need, he made his way back to where everyone had set up little camp, everyone sitting on logs and boulders in a circle, laughing too loud, drinking too much. Sitting by the creek a yard or two away by himself proved more comfortable. And while the raucous jeers and boasts of Asgard's most valiant warriors melted in the background, Loki saw a dragonfly pass by. He ran his hand across the air to direct a transformation spell at it and watched as the dragonfly turned into a firefly in mid-flight, then into a hummingbird, and, when he got the hang of it, he let it fly a little higher until he transformed it into a gigantic hawk, whose screech ripped through the tranquil forest, startling his company.

"Where in Vahalla did that come from!" Fandral yelped.

"Loki! Stop scaring woodland creatures and come join us!" called Thor.

"I really rather wouldn't," answered Loki, his back still turned to them.

"Suit yourself!" Thor said. "That just means more mead for Volstagg!"

Loki let them carry on in their merriment while he tried to find more things to practice magic on. He usually despised other people's company, only because other people never really treated him the same way they treated Thor. But...times like these, when people were busy swapping stories, playfully making fun of each other, just _living_ to enjoy the presence of someone else...friends almost didn't seem like such a bad thing to have. Almost.

* * *

There was a book Sigyn read once, about the nature of wolves. She found it at the end of some forgotten corner of the library in her home palace, its corners unbent and the pages crisp, uncreased. _Animalistic Behaviors of Vanaheim's Fiercest Natural Predators_ happened to be the last book she read, having finished everything else. What it explained was the basic hierarchy wolves had, the viciousness that was involved in the fight for power...it was fitting to her first experience with the ladies of court. They may not have been clawing each other's furs out for the leader slot, but women could be just as ferocious in their whispered scandals, their subtle social climbing, throwing the least favored ones out to the vultures.

Wildnerness, however, was not what Sigyn had walked into. The hall she entered full of mirrors and windows, brightly lit so that the details of dresses were accentuated and with such high ceilings that everyone's gossip bounced off the walls and got lost in a cacophony of nonsense. Sigyn managed to strike up a conversation with someone after the initial awkwardness of her arrival wore off. Doing that proved rather unfruitful once Lady Freyja came in. When she did, the rest of the girls avoided Sigyn like she had grown a tail.

Apparently so, and she had a feeling it had to do with the exceedingly beautiful woman approaching her, the woman with the slender figure and the ringlets of blonde hair. To Sigyn's knowledge, Freyja Njordsdottir, the dubbed Goddess of Beauty and Love was a war general's daughter, even if one could easily mistake her for queen the way all the ladies paved the way for her.

Ladies Sigyn did not know the names of greeted Freyja as she made her way across the hall. She had this aura about her that made you both want to shrink away and go toward her. Sigyn felt more like the former.

So when the goddess stopped right in front of her, Sigyn had to stop the urge to run the other direction.

"Lady Sigyn," _She has a voice that could melt Frost Giants, _Sigyn thought, "I believe we were not able to get acquainted at the ball. Shame. I'm Lady Freyja. But you know that already."_  
_

Sigyn hoped she was suppressing the urge to flinch from her sickly sweet tone was not written allover her face. She was always good at observing others and knowing what they wanted from her. Her mother's demand of her to be proper and formal surfaced in her mind again and won out since soon she was exchanging politeness with her. "Pleasure to meet you, Lady Freyja. My brother Valandi's meet you before, he's said. You're every bit as lovely as he described." That last part was false, actually. Nothing interested Valandi more than himself, and that included complimenting other people.

"Charming boy, your brother. Yes, well, I suspect there's not much that entices the eyes in Vanaheim."

Sigyn all of a sudden was pondering what Freyja would look like bald.

"Have a turn about the room with me," and Freyja, who took a hold of Sigyn's arm without waiting for a reply, walked around the hall, arm in arm. They went a few paces forward in silence, the sound of Freyja's heels clanking against the smooth, hard floor. "That was quite an entrance you made at the ball. You're all everyone was talking about," she finally said.

"I'm sure that's all been forgotten by now."

"Yes," was all she said and Sigyn could feel the grip on her arm tighten. "So young, you are. So beautiful. So new. The men really liked you, you know. I can tell these sorts."

"That's really rather flattering Lady Freyja–"

"I didn't say it to compliment you," Freyja injected sharply. Sigyn thought that might have been the end of their pretending to be polite, but that stomach-churning smile was back on Freyja's lips. "I saw you speaking with Prince Loki. He never did tell me what you two said to each other."

Obviously, Freyja was trying her best to put up an air to be nonchalant. "We were just catching up, Lady Freyja. The prince has known me since I was very little. Surely he at least must've told you that."

Freyja's lips were tight, straight line. "You're right. He did tell me that. He does not often forget to mention details." She let out a laugh that was all-too forced. "He's going to work on that if I'm to become his princess. Why, what is it Lady Sigyn? Are you feeling ill?"

"No. I'm fine."

"As I was saying, we haven't picked a date yet, but Odin arranged the whole union, so it's apparent. You know how it is. Anything Odin says, goes."

"Why are you telling me this?" asked Sigyn, though she already knew. Freyja had come to claim hers, to make sure the boundaries were set for the newcomer. Long ago, Sigyn had already accepted that she needed to stop dreaming about the prince of her memories, that she was to marry Theoric and live life as his dutiful wife, a bargaining peace between the halves of Vanaheim. As if she needed Freyja to remind her of her fate.

"Like I said," Freyja answered, "you're not familiar with Asgardian traditions. You're going to need to know all you can about Asgard."

"I suppose I am to thank you, then, for your generous advice."

Freyja made a face. "Has anyone ever told you that sarcasm isn't admired in a lady?"

"Yes, they have, actually."

The two kept walking and neared the end of the hall where Freyja decided they were done talking.

"Know, Lady Sigyn, that this is a kindness. With a such a darling face like that...don't you think I know everything there is about vanity and the feelings it invokes? Men so easily give into what their eyes want other parts of their bodies to feast on. You're a foreigner, a child." Freyja was careful in keeping her voice low so that Sigyn was the sole listener. "You impress me as a smart but impulsive little girl. That _is_ why your parents sent you here isn't it? They hope you learn the craft of Asgardian honor. I can see it, you know. Memorized the proper things to say when asked certain questions. Right posture. You stumble though, little flower. You forget your manners, the delightful dispositions girls are supposed to have. Pretty, yet too rough around the edges. You could learn a lot from me. So here's something to remember: it is important that you know where to draw the line with what's not yours. You're may be a princess in Vanaheim, but you are a stranger here."

She didn't like one bit what Freyja was insinuating. Ever the face of calmness, Sigyn smiles."How kind of you, indeed, Lady Freyja. I should tell you, I _am_ betrothed to someone."

"It would do you well to honor that."

"Or else what?" Sigyn tilts her head in mock innocence.

"Cheeky little thing, aren't you? How adorable." Freyja leaned in close and whispered, "Or else you'll know why no one ever, _ever_ has tried to cross me." She backed away, her lips curving in that terrible fashion that Sigyn didn't even have a name for it anymore. "Pleased to have spoken with you, Lady Sigyn." Freyja bowed.

Sigyn did the same. "Not as pleasant as it was for me, Lady Freyja."

* * *

Thor finally got Loki to sit with the rest of them. He might as well have been sitting back by the creek because Loki made no contribution to any of the Volstagg and Sif got to speaking of who had rounded the most points at the previous warrior's feast, one of the other Asgardians said, "Wonder what all the women do when we're all out?"

"Nothing's my guess," said another. "What would women do without men?" They chuckled.

Typical male views in Asgard. Loki paid it no attention. That it, until one had the audacity to carry it further.

"Speaking of women, Iwaldi's daughter is quite the ripe peach."

"What I wouldn't give to pluck that sweeting from Vanaheim." They were roaring with laughter. Loki soon changed that when he surreptitiously turned their the mead in their canteens into water bugs. Through their yells and curses, they probably knew it was Loki.

Thor glances at his brother, and when the two make eye contact, Thor looks away, grinning.

The prince was well aware they couldn't say anything against him, given the present circumstance that both sons of Odin were there. Insolent as they were, they were wise enough to know to not aggravate Loki any further in fear of him retaliating when they didn't expect it and in knowing Thor would not react kindly to them either. A trickster had his advantages. Having the strongest warrior in the nine realms as a prince and brother had its pros, too.

"You shouldn't have spoken of a lady in such a way!" scolded Sif.

"We were only looking to jest, Lady Sif!" said one.

"And, you, brother," Thor chimed in, eager to ease the mood, "What do you think of your new rival?"

"Rival? We're not rivals," Loki played with the leaves of a plant he was sitting nearby. "Not really."

Fandral made a show to exaggerate a confused face. "God of Chaos, Goddess of Constancy? Am I missing something here?"

"Probably. That would explain everything," retorted Holgun, as-a-matter-of-factly, tapping his forehead with his index finger, which earned a playful shake of the head from Fandral.

"Leave it to Loki to be rival to a girl," said Volstagg.

At the word 'girl' and the negative connotation Volstagg spoke it with, Sif reacted accordingly and hit him hard in the abdomen, to which Volstagg let out a few curses.

"Now you've been punched by a girl," leered Sif. "Does that make you any less of a man? No. It doesn't. Just less of an honorable one for provoking her to do so in the first place." The others cheered, laughed. They all most likely shared the same views and saw women as weak. Only idiots dared say that in front of a warrior like Sif.

Loki could see why someone like his brother was so fond of Sif. For himself, she was much too wild in a brute way, much too interested in battle and warrior's honor. Plus he was not attracted to her physically in any aspect. Those were things Loki had no inclination toward whatsoever. If Thor and Sif played everything right, Odin would approve should Thor ever consider making Sif princess. Thor being able to propose to Sif would be a freedom, even, considering how Loki ended up being engaged to Freyja Njordsdottir. Which left him to ponder, what did he even like about Freyja? Being a man, it was understandable what an allure her physical appearance was. She was also cunning, not dull like a lot of the overprivileged daughters of Asgard. He hadn't minded when Odin informed him of their engagement. Everybody thought they were perfect for each other, that somehow, Freyja's radiance would bring a glow to Loki's personality.

That must've been what love was. A condition that allowed someone else to change someone such as Loki into someone that was not nearly as reclusive or repulsive. Was that how it worked? Because once in a while, he'd catch a glance at how his parents looked at each other, that unnameable light in their eyes whenever the other was around, and Loki wasn't so sure that whatever he and Freyja had was even close to love.

* * *

**(A/N): What do you think of Frejya? Like her, don't like her? ;D**

**Thank you for reading this because that most likely means you read the whole chapter. Can you spot all the rivalries in this chapter?**

**And to the reviewer who left that comment about Labyrinth, the one from the eighties right? AWESOME.**


	4. From the Window

**(A/N): Another flashback! haha and thank you ALL my reviewers. Thank you :D I hope this chapter wasn't so boring? There's more of a storyline later, but I just wanted to establish more interaction between our two main characters for now.**

**Read and review! You guys are always so nice. Even if you have any little criticism, it all helps! **

* * *

Chapter III

* * *

_Thirteen felt like a strange age. Even though Sigyn felt small, the desire to act like an adult was so strong that she got lost somewhere in the middle. Girls were starting to talk about boys now in a different way. Elders were talking about marriage, the kids only a few years older than her were getting husbands and wives left and right. Her eldest sister was already set to marry someone. Soon, it would be Sigyn's turn._

_The idea of being tied to someone the rest of her life was a concept she didn't quite understand. She only ever really wasted her afternoons daydreaming about one boy and that in itself was farfetched. Seven years had passed and Sigyn thought less and less of the boy in the garden. She was old enough to conclude that her little infatuation with him as a small child was due to the fact that Loki was simply different to anyone she had met at the time (and presently) and that his magic tricks was what had her so smitten._

_She used to tell her friend Theoric about the prince all the time. _

_"I'll marry him and move to Asgard and become queen and do magic all day!" she recalls twirling around in the nursery, seven years old, a hand-crafted crown of paper around her head while Theoric busy playing with wooden toys, scrunching up his chubby face. _

_"Who's Loki?" the little boy had asked._

_"I already _told _you Theo. He's the Prince of Asgard!"_

_"Thought Thor was the prince of Asgard."_

_"You don't _know._"_

_"I do, too! 'Sides, you're not allowed to do magic. You're not a farmer. And you're a girl."_

_"I can, too, do magic!" And it was true. Magic was reserved for the agriculture half of Vanaheim, the lower class that worked in the fields and villages. Hardly was it ever used as a form of entertainment or a hobby. Her mother never liked it that her youngest daughter rather spend time reading books and playing around with magic. The King had convinced her that it was just a phase Sigyn was going through, that by the time she was of age she would have stopped that sort of nonsense. So the Queen let it go at the time. As Sigyn got older, she'd had to be more discreet about the books she snuck up back to her room, the spells she practiced when everyone else in the palace was asleep. She liked playing with the other kids too, going down by the shore to chase waves._

_Sigyn liked the way the incantations rolled off her tongue and made things _happen._ The feeling of that energy at the tips of her fingers being enough to change the things around her were indescribable. And she had Prince Loki to thank for that medium in which she developed a form of life that made her feel like herself._

_Iwaldi announces that the Aesir King and his sons were due for another diplomatic visit to Vanaheim. The news made Sigyn feel like it was some sort of waking dream. Up until now, Loki had been this vivid yet distant memory, a prince on a pedestal, a figure of her fantastical childhood. At thirteen, she didn't know how to react. Part of her is excited at the prospect of seeing him again, whereas another part was afraid that maybe he wasn't as great as she made him up to be._

_Inevitably, what Sigyn decided to do about it would get her scolded later. She didn't care. The Aesir arrive this time all on horses as she watches, sitting on her windowsill. She didn't know why she didn't want to go down to the landing to meet them. A princess was supposed to be well-mannered and approach the guest. A proper lady would have. A proper lady would not have chose to sit in the comfort of her room, spying from two floors up. The queen really did have a lot to worry about when it came to her youngest daughter._

_A few of Odin's guard is there as he leads the way, his two sons right behind. If it was even possible, Thor had gotten bigger. He rides proudly, bulked and strong. Odin probably looked like that when he was younger, she thought. Definitely, the eldest son of Odin resembled a great warrior. For king, that was debatable. _

_Loki, on the other hand, was not the mirror image of his fifteen year old self or even of his father. He was taller, slighter than Thor, as always. _

_She can't hear what they're saying. While the Aesir king exchanges pleasantries with her parents, her brother and sisters are greeting the two princes. Utterly embarrassed at the way her sisters are being a little too friendly towards Thor, it's not nearly as embarrassing when Loki wore a look of confusion before he looks up and catches her staring from her window. She stumbled backwards, gasping, and shut the window closed, leaning her back on it to catch her breath. An ideal reacquaintance with her childhood object of fancy. _

_Great. Now she'd most certainly could not face him now. She had a strange desire to dissolve into a puddle. _Was that how boys were supposed to make you feel?

_When she sees her mother heading inside the palace, she realized it was to find her and yell at her. She had to get out of her room and get around the palace without being seen. Good thing she had gotten quite talented at shadow illusions._

_The Vanaheim palace was full of pillars and corridors, making it easier to get around unseen. She knew she probably shouldn't go to the library. That would be the first place her mother would look. However, when she spots Loki heading that way...curiosity got in the way of her better judgment, if there she had any._

_Once in the library, Sigyn carries caution to be as quiet as possible. Maybe she hadn't grown up at all, because now she was in the same situation she was before, too shy to go up and talk to Loki, hiding behind a bookshelf this time instead of a pillar, in the library instead of the garden. Seemed like nothing had changed._

* * *

A letter came in for Sigyn. Like most communication from the outer realms, any letters or messages from the outer realms got sent to the portal. Heimdall was the first recipient of anything that was sent the official way. From him, deliveries were sent straight to the palace, for there was hardly ever occasion for anything to go anywhere else in Asgard.

Sigyn imagined what the stoic Bifrost guard thought of the letter her mother sent. She wondered if the idea of a queen fussing over wearing the right dress and about who to impress had made Heimdall roll his eyes at such frivolity. Certainly those matters made her do so.

_My Dear Sigyn,_

_To hear such great news of your introduction to the Aesirs's court does please me so. You still have much to do, but at least it's a start. Remember, dear, that you must take this as the opportunity to build a respectable reputation there so that the one you had in Vanaheim among the court may be restored._

_Theoric asks about you all the time. He, as I, and every Vanir, wait the day you two will be joined. Do your realm that justice and favor by being the best princess you can be, Sigyn. Sincerely, I hope that you have not been wasting your precious visit in Asgard by reading books that have nothing to do with your duties as your father's daughter or playing with magic when you should be focusing. Be agreeable and always fix yourself to look your best. Wear that gold dress I picked for you, the one with the high collar. And please, Sigyn, try so very hard to not bare that unpleasant attitude you have sometimes. You are representing Vanaheim's most powerful and wealthiest family. They absolutely adore your brother there. When you return, I know you will have improved greatly. We'll have the wedding planned and ready by then._

_Love,  
Mother_

"How tasteful," Sigyn murmured to herself as she folded the letter and threw it in a dresser drawer. She sighed, plopping down on the dresser stool, arms crossed. The same old rules and advice. What she often did after she got lectured by her parents was head to the library to get comfortable in some corner as she found solace in the combinations of words and ideas on every page. Sometimes they were stories, poems. Sometimes they were descriptions of old rulers and distant lands. Her favorites were the ones that taught her spells and charms.

_I could do that here, _she thought. The Asgardians's library was around here somewhere. She can't remember if she'd ever passed it and made a note to ask Elga when she heard voices coming from the courtyard. Once again, she was looking out below, leaning on the windowsill with her arms as men arrived back from the hunt. Thor, a lady Sigyn knew as Sif, Loki, and a couple of other men passed through. Bits and pieces of what they were talking about could be heard. Recounting their favorite parts of the outing, teasing each other, asking how much the boars weighed.

Loki lagged off to the side, looking absolutely indifferent. One of the men, heavy-built and ginger-bearded, had under his arm one boar and over his shoulder another.

None of them seemed to notice Sigyn watching from above, or so she thought until Loki halted his steps to gradually lift his gaze to hers. Right as she started to think she shouldn't have been spying, Loki gives a dramatic bow and comes back up grinning. Sigyn found herself laughing, returning a small nod before he follows the group's stead.

Elga and the other maids burst in just as the prince leaves her view. The maids begin tidying her chambers, Elga opens her wardrobe, fixing all the clothing, and one maid brings in a platter.

"I'm not hungry now, I'll in a few," she told her, then turns to Elga curiously. "Why are you looking through my clothes, Elga?"

"Reminder, m'lady, that the Queen's annual celebration ball will take place soon, a few moons yet," replied Elga. "Which did you plan to wear, m'lady? Always good to prepare in advance."

"You see that gold one?" Sigyn pointed as one of the maids sat her down to brush her hair. "Mother wanted me to wear that one. I feel as if she has eyes here in Asgard. I just_ know_ she'd know if I didn't wear it."

Elga pulled out the dress, long and silken in texture. Compared to the sapphire-colored one she wore at her introduction to court, this one was much less extravagant and more elegant. The color went up to her neck, and the top sequined with reflective crystals, leaving her arms bare, and the rest fell to the floor like a soft curtain.

"Very beautiful, m'lady," said on of the maids, and the rest nodded in agreement. Almost a little strange, how in sync they were and how they all thought so without saying another word. They never really talked much, except for Elga.

When the maids were done with their duties, Sigyn took it upon herself to roam the palace a bit more, to feel more at ease with her surroundings. She liked doing that, liked knowing every nook and corner. Asgard itself was quite big and she hadn't even seen the entirety of her current dwelling. The next hour or so consisted of Sigyn exploring corridors–empty and full–sitting rooms and lounging rooms, courtyards, exits and entrances, halls of different sizes, council rooms and like. That warm brass color was the same throughout the whole place, polished and bright.

Every now and then she'd run into people she was required to make conversation with but Sigyn never spoke to them too long. She preferred the company of her thoughts to the company of other people's presence.

She was walking rather slowly down a narrow way, eyes on the large windows on one side of the hall when she heard loud footsteps approaching. Looking ahead, she saw a towering figure, bulky and attention-grabbing. A second passed before she realized who it was, made known by the way his royal red cape followed behind him.

"Ah, Lady Sigyn!" Thor greeted her enthusiastically as he spotted her down the hall. "We're yet to have the chance to speak properly since you've arrived. The last time I went to Vanaheim, I do not believe I got to see you."

Sigyn smiled. There was no denying that as strong and as fierce Thor was, he was also, overall, good-natured. "My fault, I must say. I was busy being a wicked child, then."

"All grown up now! No more sneaking around, my lady?" Thor replied lightheartedly, completely missing the quick glint in Sigyn's eyes.

"Oh, no, not at all," said Sigyn. "How are you, my prince?"

"I should be asking you, shouldn't I? You're far from Vanaheim. Tell me, Princess, are you feeling welcome?"

Thankfully, the slight hesitation in Sigyn's reply went unnoticed by Thor. "Yes. Everyone's been very good to me."

Thor's smile was warm, welcoming. Unlike a good number of people here, Sigyn didn't feel at all intimidated or judged. "I'm glad to hear it. Were you headed anywhere, Princess Sigyn?"

"I–as a matter of fact...I wonder, Prince Thor, if you could direct me to where the library is?" He happily obliged, offering his arm as he lead the way. How easy it was to see, now, why so many adored Thor. He was a gentlemen. But it wasn't as if Loki wasn't either. She never had a small infatuation with Thor the way she did with Loki when she was younger. Apart from when she was first introduced to him when she was six, she barely remembers Thor at all. And the time he _did _come back to Vanaheim, the he was much farther from her thoughts than his younger brother was. Now that she actually had spoken more than three formal words to him, she decided she liked Thor. He reminded her an awful lot of someone she knew.

* * *

_She didn't know how long she had been lurking around the library, sneaking between the bookshelves, but in that time there must've been a point where she had completely lost track because when Loki speaks, he is suddenly behind her._

_"Little spy."_

_Sigyn turns around so fast that her lungs are grabbing for air to calm her down. She's relieved to see that there's a playful smile on the prince's face. That fact didn't exactly wash away any of her embarrassment, which only built up since he caught her looking earlier from her room. Pathetic was what her present condition was. A pathetic little child that had nothing better to do than pine after some foreign king's son that was much too old for her and apparently much too smart. Is this what those dim young women felt like when they were busy giggling over her brother or Theoric? She hated it. Hated it._

_"You were always good at that. If I remember correctly, that's how I met you last time." Loki is still smiling and Sigyn can feel the scarlet work its way from the back of her neck to her cheeks. _Vahalla, he must think I'm such an infant, _she thought._

_"I–Sorry, Prince Loki, I–"  
_

_But Loki put up a hand. "No need, dear Princess. Sigyn, isn't it? I did the same when I was your age. Still do. Life is much more fun in the shadows. Would you like to see how to do that properly? Undetected?" He's grinning and Sigyn can directly see now why he's been named God of Mischief. Written allover his face. Implied in every word, every flash of his white teeth. A mysterious, friendly, dangerous reminder._

_She thought, maybe, she's too young to feel this eager. She says "yes" too quickly anyways__._

* * *

Asgard's library was slightly larger than Vanaheim's. Upon entering, Thor parts poiltely from the princess and Sigyn is left to admire the endless shelves of words on paper by herself. The shelves ranged from tall wood ones that stood in the middle of the room, sectioned neatly, to shelves built into the walls, as if the literature grew out of them. There were two floors of it, and the structure of the room was more intricate than the vast rectangular hall she was used to.

In Vanaheim, she had read every text there was to read in the library. Here, she's skimming through titles, aimlessly running around, desperate to find something new, anything new. She finds a few novels that interest her, some even Midgard works. Initially anticipating on only getting one book, Sigyn carries about ten to a table to read.

She's just begun to take in the preface of the novel she picked when she's felt the happiest since coming to Asgard. This is where she liked belonging, living in a world of her own. She felt strong here, purposeful, as if the exquisiteness of her mind was reality. She got that feeling rarely–when she's in the middle of a story, in the midst of the midnight balls she always snuck off to (not the stuffy ones her parents forced her to go to), alone in the garden, room, study, magic thriving from her fingertips. Life was there, in those moments. Every other time felt like some grey-toned waking dream.

What draws her attention away from the page is the sound of the library door opening and closing.

"Haven't changed much from that bookish girl," Loki said. He was no longer dressed in his hunting gear, now in his traditional everyday clothing that was still exquisite for the more reserved son of Odin.

"Changed a little," she said.

"What's that you're reading, Princess?"

"Oh, this? Just a story, I suppose. Your regular romantic prose."

Loki smirked. "Never took you for a romantic."

"Would you call yourself a cynic, my lord?"

"Me?" Loki shook his head. "No. No, not in the most diminutive sense. I think that would surprise some. But it really shouldn't. Cynics are boring. Cynics don't dream. And me?" He holds out his hand, palm open. He conjures a purple spark, slowly turning into a bright, glowing light, flickering like the tail of a comet. Sigyn can't help but become mesirized at the sight of it, the strange hue it was, how natrual it looked in his hand. She doesn't know why.

For some reason, the library seemes darker than it was a few seconds earlier. A;; she can make out in her direct vision is Loki and his magic trick. In her peripheral vision, it was all complete darkness.

"I never stop dreaming," Loki finished, snapping his fingers with his free hand and the lights suddenly lit the library again, the purple glow gone as if it had never been.

"Have you been practicing magic like you promised?" Loki asked.

Like she promised. Sigyn smiled. "Yes."

"Show me."

* * *

_He's teaching her everything, and little Sigyn, always so knowledgable, hung on to every word. She loves that she can transform objects at her will, make things appear, hide in plain sight. The language of magic sounds so foreign, so delightful the way they roll of his tongue that she wants to learn how to do that, too._

___They went over the basics, the things she didn't understand when she was younger and studying these things on her own. With someone to tell her exactly how to do things, she realized that there was more direction in the things she was learning, wanting to learn. She didn't know what she'd do after Loki left again. No one was ever willing to teach her magic._

___"Vanir do magic," said Sigyn after Loki had gone over the different types of magic different beings in other realms used. "But it's mostly the peasants. Mother and Father don't see the use for us to have to learn. I bet they let you in Asgard, don't they?" Sigyn stared at the text in front of her, the book illustrating different effects of different incantations. "I bet they let you do anything. Must be exciting."_

_"Oh they let me," said Loki. "Doesn't make me any more fascinating to them. People like Thor more."_

_He watched as Sigyn took in that piece of information for a moment. "I think it's fascinating. Is Thor nice?"_

_Loki chuckled. "To me, yes. To others, mostly."_

_"Are you nice?"_

_Though she was older, her bluntness reminded Loki just how young she still was. And it was refreshing, he'll admit, to have someone be so candid around him. Others were always either making fun of him or choosing their words carefully when they remembered what a trickster he was._

_"Sometimes."_

_Sigyn shrugged, turning the page. "I think you're nice, my lord."_

_"Is that so? And how do you know you're not wrong?" he teased._

_"I'm not wrong about people," she drawled. "I'm never wrong."_

_"You're a very crass child. You must get told that often."_

_Sigyn sat on top of the table and placed the book in her lap, eyes running along the pages, ignoring Loki's last comment. She had forgotten how embarrassed she was earlier. Now it felt just like she was talking to a friend. "I heard you were named God of Mischief. Do you like that?"_

_Loki paused, his lips slowly turning up at the corners. "Princess, I love it."_

_"But...but does anyone trust you? If you're the God of Mischief, that is."_

_"You have to trick them into trusting you, Princess Sigyn. That's my secret. Can you keep a secret?"_

_Sigyn nodded anxiously and Loki continued. "Does not matter how many times you've pranked them, lied to them. If they think they've outwitted you somehow by not trusting you, then they're all yours. When I want someone to do something, I let them think they did it all on their own. Let them think they've won."_

_"That sounds like an awful lot of work," Sigyn pouted. Loki let out a laugh._

_"Well someone's got to do it. You need a bit of chaos, Princess. Something to change the balance. That's what I am."_

_Sigyn's eyebrows furrowed. "If you're that, then who's the balance?"_

_"I–what?"_

_"Who's the balance?"_

_Loki thought of exactly what her question meant. "I'm not quite sure. Not anyone I know of. Who knows? Maybe everyone else is the balance. Maybe I'm the odd one out."_

_"Oh." __Sigyn only bobbed her head, understandingly. She didn't think much of it. Perhaps it would make sense when she was older. _

* * *

Sigyn looked around, seeming to debate what spells she should practice when she settles on the book in her hand. Gradually, the book in her hand began to turn into a bouquet of blue flowers. When she was done, she looked up at the prince to see his reaction.

An easy enough feat for someone who claimed to always be practicing spells. Loki got the feeling there was more to it than the princess was letting on.

He nodded. "Good. Very Good, Princess."

"That was a trick. I could hardly call that magic," Sigyn retorted. Seemed she knew she was capable of more, too. Loki just didn't know why she wasn't trying harder.

He grinned and he could tell Sigyn didn't understand why. "Is that really the best you can do?"

Her gaze fell to the floor. "What makes you think I can do better?" she muttered.

He only stared at her, as if the sight of her could give away any secrets. This was when the pieces had the potential to fit together in Loki's mind. A start. "You're Vanir. Magic's in your blood, it's an integral part of your people."

"My people," scoffed Sigyn. "But not me. The farmers, the merchants, all the peasants. They're the ones that use it. They need it. Not a princess. They teach us basic healing spells. Anything the farmers use to make the fruits grow plumper or the grasses faster. But something like transformation? Illusion? Mother would be in hysterics at the notion."

"Is that what you've resigned yourself to?" He stepped so close, stopping right in front to face her. He took the book from her hands and set it down on the table. "Let's try this again. Show me. What you're really capable of." His eyes were directly on hers, daring her.

He had a strong sense that she _did _know she was able to do more advanced things. That'd Sigyn had done them before once or twice. She was holding back for a reason. Curious.

One more daring glance from Loki and Sigyn closed her eyes, concentrating. The library, full of books, faded into a deep color that was black and a million other colors and hues. Walls disappeared, shelves disappeared, the outline of the room disappeared. Specs of light appeared allover, different patterns everywhere. Stars.

Loki took a good look around to see what Sigyn had done. The two of them, in the space between all the realms.

"Magnificent," Loki said softly, taking in the illusion she created as it faded, placing them in the library once again.

"I suppose," Sigyn sighed. "Magic's more something I know about than actually can do."

"Yes," said Loki, remembering the night she had caught him using a small persuasion charm. "Observant of you. I was impressed. You have potential, though. That's what's so key. I see it in you. I can help you, if you like," then added with a fond smile, "Again."

"Help me?" Sigyn nearly whispered. The wide way her eyes reacted to his proposition reminded Loki of her younger self. "I–yes that, that sounds absolutely–I'd be very grateful, my lord. You must pardon me, my lord, but I am finding Asgard to be a bit too much like my home kingdom."

"And what's that?"

Sigyn pursed her lips in thought. "Boring."

"Oh, I quite agree." Loki took a seat next to her, picking one of the books off the table and glanced through it. "I would like us to be friends, Princess. That's what friends do isn't it?" He sounded like to he half trying to convince himself. "They help each other."

Sigyn looked almost dreamily into the distance, staring at nothing particular at all. "I would like a friend."

He thought she might. "As would I, my lady."

* * *

**(A/N): Two lonely kids. ;P**

**Curious, readers. Who do you see as Sigyn? I have a few actresses in mind when I read about her. In my fic, she IS brunette, although I know a lot of fics make her blonde. But since Freyja was always blonde in my head, I decided to make Sigyn the opposite.**

**Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter, those of you readers who have stuck around to read my little fic. And to all those who have found me on tumblr and followed me, thank you to you, too! You are all cool cats.**


	5. First Friendships

**(A/N): Hi all! Thank you again for all your reviews. Some of you have accounts, so any of the concerns you had, hopefully I addressed all that in the messages I sent. And for those of you who don't, perhaps your questions will be answered in this chapter since I don't have a tab open for the reviews while I'm typing this...**

**There are important things in this chapter that pertain to both Loki and Sigyn's relatioship, amongst other things. Also, I am trying not to rush the romance too much between the two of them so there are a lot of things in between as well. But they're both very smart and self-aware so I doubt it will take long for them to realize how much they rather be with each other :)**

**If you have any suggestions, I'm totally open to them, readers! Only the fourth chapter so far and all.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter IV

* * *

People had the habit of bursting into Loki's room uninvited. Mainly, it was Thor who would come in whenever he wanted.

_"I told you not to come in," _Loki would complain as Thor would ignore him and talk anyway.

_"What do you do in here by yourself anyway?" _Had Thor been Fandral, the question would probably have been inappropriate.

Other instances, it was the servants who, no matter how often they found Loki kept it rather tidy, would come in insisting to clean.

_"Clearly there's nothing to do in here for any of you, so I suggest you be on your way out."_

_"Queen's orders," _they'd tell him. _"Wants to double check every surface is spotless."_

_"Spotless? My room is immaculate!"_

_"Queen's orders."_

_"For Vahalla's sake–"_

Lately, it was Freyja who had been dropping by as she wished–not entirely unwelcome, but entirely uninvited.

_"Can't a women see her betrothed when she desires so? I barely see you as it is, what with Thor dragging you allover with those friends of his."_

And...well there wasn't much he could say to get her out.

"Hello, my beloved," she said this time, lying down on his bed beside him as he put the book he had been reading on his other side on the bed. She had made it quite know that when one's attention wasn't on her completely lead to her irritation.

He sat up a bit, his back to the headboard. "How are you, my dear?"

Freyja closed her eyes serenely as she smiled and if she noticed the somewhat flatness to Loki's tone, she didn't say so. "Absolutely content. Lady Amora was droning on about her dress for your mother's celebration ball–what a bore of a girl, no wonder Fandral's found interest in everyone else when he tires of her!–anyway I suppose, from the way she described it, it was too similar to the one I planned to wear..."

Somewhere along her story, Loki had stopped listening as Freyja's talk reminded him of Frigga's annual party she held for all of Asgard. High and low class. They were always something to look forward to, varying a few degrees from the usual functions he had to attended. This one wouldn't be so overwhelmingly stuffy with all the wealthy bragging to each other just how wealthy they were. The villagers were invited as well, the servants scheduled breaks so that they could join in, too, and was always held in the gardens outside the palace.

"...as Dagny said. Took long enough until I convinced her she must change it. Subtly, mind you. I try my best not to be blunt," finished Freyja.

He couldn't care less about anything anyone spoke about in Asgard, least of all matters like these. He supposes Freyja can't really help it. A general's daughter, she wasn't exactly royalty, though she had grown up extremely well-off and being around the kind of girls she was always around, fussing over dresses was inevitable. What didn't completely off-put him from Freyja was that he knew in addition to her superficiality, she was intelligent. Goddess of Beauty, yes. But being the Goddess of Love meant she knew a lot about one's intentions and true self, or at least that's what his mother kept telling him.

_The one who knows love knows everything. Everything that matters._

She had told him that when he was very young and hadn't forgotten it since.

"Are you listening to me, Loki?" Her eyes were open now, looking up at him.

"Yes, my dear," he said, then added, "I am sure that even if you wore the same dress as Lady Amora, your beauty would be tenfold."

Her eyes searched him for a moment, probably to see if he was lying. But she must've thought he wasn't because soon she beamed in agreement. "Thank you. How sweet you are, saying so," she kissed him on the check. "And you will look handsome beside me." She kept kissing him, moving from his cheek, to his jawline, to his neck. "Everyone will be so envious of us. And soon I'll be princess, my darling, darling prince..." Her hands rested on his shoulders, though he could tell she would start moving them soon. They had been in these situations before, ever since their betrothal had been announced. (Always initiated by Freyja). They could be doing that for hours, though never going much further than just kissing.

Honor and all that–which he thought Freyja could care less about when it came to physical matters between them, but something was always holding him back. Whenever he could feel her pushing things further, there was something in him that made him draw things to a halt.

Unlike the other men in Asgard, he found little need for such intimacies. From observing everyone else, physical closeness often complicated situations and made such unnecessary messes that Loki saw as completely avoidable. Enjoyable as a woman's touch may be, being with Freyja too long always made him crave to be alone afterwards.

Hearing her voice was never dull and he wouldn't necessarily call her a nuisance. Her words, though...he was the best of liars and could easily tell when somebody's claims and declarations only thinly covered the surface. And Freyja's barely did so.

When they stopped, it wasn't so much because he wasn't enjoying it. What happened was that once Freyja had begun to do away with the remaining space between them and pushed Loki down so that he had his back on the bed, he felt the edges of the book he had laid down moments earlier against his shoulder blade.

"What is it?" Freyja asked he had pulled his mouth apart from hers and pushed her slightly away from him. He sat up and took the book from off the bed and the sight of it reminded him of something.

Freyja was about to continue on when Loki stopped her. "I just remembered, forgive me, my dear. Mother requested my presence before supper." He (sort of) gently pushed her off and straightened his clothes and hair in front of his mirror, Freyja sitting confusedly on his bed.

"_Right now?_ Must it be now?"

"Afraid so, Freyja, dear. Shouldn't keep Mother waiting. Stay if you like, though I shouldn't think I'll be back until very late."

Without another word, Loki exited his room, leaving behind a discontented Freyja to glare after him.

* * *

Sigyn read all she wanted while in Asgard. She knew she probably should have been out around the palace, making false friends. She knew a letter would come in from Vanaheim and somehow her mother would know what she was up to.

(What would the Queen say if she knew she had gotten weary of Asgard fast and had spent more time with Odin's _other _son?)

When she thought of what friends did, she pictured the nights she and the young maidens she knew in Vanaheim would run around secret parties or when she watched the men sit in the dinner halls drink mead in excess, sharing stories and inside jokes. Her and Loki seemed to be a different breed of friends. At times, it seemed like they could never stop talking to each other, passing by hours with only the sound of each other's voices. Other times they were so quiet, too engrossed with their own occupations that they would forget to speak altogether, dwelling in a cozy silence–but always beside each other.

If she wasn't spending time with Loki, she was by herself, reading all the prose and poetry and learning texts she found interesting. The maids had often come in her room to find her in bed, book open. They gave her the same looks the maids in Vanaheim gave her when they found her in similar situations. Sometimes she thought that everyone would actually prefer the times she was careless and would flee the palace for a night out, at least they considered that normal (though not proper) behavior for a teenage girl. But no matter how exciting those parties were, they never gave her the satisfaction like a book did.

Seeing Loki became Sigyn's favorite and only thing to look forward to in Asgard. She hoped she wasn't being intrusive or coming off as a nuisance to him, although she had the feeling he liked having her around. Or maybe it was just having anyone around.

Outside their meetings, Sigyn would only see Loki here and there around Asgard. Sometimes they'd go up to each other and speak (if there weren't many around), sometimes certain circumstance meant they had to keep their distance, never getting the opportunity to behave like they did when they were alone. Eyes were everywhere, rules were everywhere, rules Sigyn knew well. As much as she just felt like being around him all the time (most to cure her boredom, she convinced herself) mother's constant voice in her head nagging on about "duties" blocked other things out. So instead she would engage in socializing with the high lords, the dubbed gods and goddesses of Asgard.

Sigyn was used to conjuring small tricks or being able to go about the grounds unnoticed. Subjects like transfiguration or divination were fields of sorcery she was not as skilled in as she wanted to be. The actual art of sorcery was lost on her.

And Loki was so much more informative and helpful than the magic books or the broken knowledge she picked up from peasants in the villages. This moment marked the first time after the last when Loki proposed to help her if she wanted. Initially, they had met in the library before Sigyn found passages about the type of magic she wished to know more about. That's when Loki told her of his personal study in the palace that he used for just those purposes.

"What you need to know about magic is that it is a science as well. They go hand in hand. Science may not mean much to Asgardians. They have little use for it. And it is a completely different concept on Midgard. Once you accept that magic is more than just making something happen, the better your control over it will be," he told her a few days ago.

Loki had introduced her to a few books that were not available in Vanaheim, including some Midgardian literature.

"They're not as progressed in Midgard as they are here. In fact, some of their characters are rather ridiculous–it's no wonder they worshipped _us. _Humans have such shortcomings...But they do use those as intensely important themes in their works. Interesting enough," Loki claimed. "I thought you might want to look over them."

"I do," she agreed. "We don't have Midgardian literature at all in Vanaheim. I doubt anyone would approve of that."

"More or less smuggled those here," Loki added (rather proudly Sigyn thought). "Odin probably wouldn't care much if he knew. But can you imagine what they would think of me if they knew I was reading these?" Loki shook his head.

Sigyn had started reading several of the volumes he'd handed her. She had been able to get through a few stories in a short time. One was about a rich man who was fond of riches and never celebrated some Midgardian holiday and then time traveled with ghosts. Another was a play that had to do with two couples in running about a forest falling in love with each other, and at one point, one of the women fell in love with a donkey (to which Sigyn laughed at the strange humor and varied language from the previous novel).

There was one that did stand out more to Sigyn: about two children who grew up together in some large, bleak house in the cold northern region of a place Sigyn had never heard of before (though it sounded just as all-together bland as the places she'd been).

The boy was an outcast, the girl beautiful and a bit reckless and they both ended up marrying other people. The two characters loved each other so much that they went on and on about how they were a part of each other, _were _each other–which Sigyn found interesting. Never did it occur to her that love between lovers translated to two halves of a whole, to existing as one being that they could hardly recognize themselves without them. That's not what she had been taught.

Actually, she'd never been taught much of love, ever.

_You will love Theoric, _she had been told. _You will love him more than you love anything. You don't know now because you're so young. But you'll see. _She had no idea what that meant.

Such made her question if they were as dull in Midgard as the other realms made them out to be. Perhaps there was more to them than previously concluded.

She thought about asking what Loki had taken from these stories. A few of them she did bring up when they were in the library together, where they mostly were confused about Midgardian society and culture and any of the references in the text or they poked fun at some of the ridiculous situations that were in these novels. She decided against mentioning that one particular story, even though she kept it in the back of her mind.

The next they saw each other was in his study. Sigyn had been waiting (not too long) alone in the room for Loki to arrive and so distracted herself with one of the volumes of _The History and Science of Sorcery in the Nine Realms _while she waited and forgot all about the Midgardian story. At the moment being, she was going over one of the passages:

_Using the Third Eye is advantageous when one wishes to be in two places at once, without physically being present in the second. Correct use of the Third Eye results in the conjurer to witness instances where they otherwise could not be present. Also, doing such allows discretion on the conjurer's part–in that the party they watch would have no indication whatsoever of any outside views. Thus, the Third Eye has often been used by those who have wished..._

_...Many do not practice use of the Third Eye since the materials to do so are keenly specific. One must be in possession of Alf (or "Elf"*) steel as well as the proper ingredients which include certain strains of camirwood...Alf steel is nearly impossible to come by as the centuries past ever since the Elves granted limited access to Alfheim mines wherein the material itself is not in adequate supply..._

_...Requirement of such rare components is why many conjurers, even those recorded to be most powerful, do not have the means to use the Third Eye. There are similar versions to Third Eye sorcery that have been practiced–_

She would have read further except for the opening of the study door drew her attention away.

"Apologies, Princess, for my tardiness," Loki offered. He appeared to her genuinely sorry and wondered if she'd ever be able to tell if he was lying or not.

"That's quite all right. I was just reading over one of these–" she held up the volume "–you're so lucky to have such things available. I'm rather taken by the material in here. I didn't know there was so much...well, _more _to sorcery, honestly."

"Did you find anything that especially peaked your interest?"

"Yes–this here. What do you know about the Third Eye?" asked Sigyn, glancing upwards from the text to Loki who stood beside her as she sat on the tabletop.

The place was oddly orderly–he had multiple cabinets of artifacts, shelves of magic books, and racks full of glass containers with the most random assortment of plant parts, liquids, and other things she did not recognize.

"Formalities aside. We're friends, remember? Call me Loki between you and I, " he assured, "and I know quite a lot about the Third Eye."

"If I can call you Loki, then you cannot address me as princess," she demanded.

"_Sigyn_," he said, amused, "very well. And about the Third Eye–I so happen to have an Alf steel bowl in here somewhere."

_How in Vahalla. _Sigyn raised an eyebrow. "How do you just _happen _to have one of the rarest materials in the nine realms 'in here somewhere?'" She was pretty sure the book made it exceedingly clear how rare Alf steel was

"You–you actually–"

"Real Alf steel," he gestured to the bowl as he set it down beside her.

"That...do I _want_ to know how you acquired such a thing?"

He smirked. "Perhaps not, my lady."

She rolled her eyes as she got off the table to stand beside him. "I told you you may call me Sigyn. I'm not really much of a lady," she added under her breath.

Loki shook his head chuckling, gathering the appropriate ingredients. "No?"

"You should hear what our Vanir queen has to say about me," said Sigyn.

"I'm sure it's nothing so awful."

Sigyn scoffed. "Being constantly told you're not good enough. Whatever you do, it's just never perfect. Everyone else seems to be able to function perfectly. Am I supposed to like the things they like? Aspire to act the way they act? Do you know what that's like, being the youngest, totally forgotten until you've done something wrong? _Hel's teeth_!" She ranted, breathless when she stopped speaking.

"I do, in fact," Loki said quietly, but his expression had not darken has hers had moments ago. He kept his focus on his work before him.

That's when she realized that if anyone knew what if felt like, it'd be the prince. And then she realized she had just cursed in front of Odin's son.

She wanted to apologize and was about to, but Loki had paused with his work and met her eyes then, and she found herself momentarily speechless. "What a strain it is, to be so born so high and yet treated like dirt. You hear the peasants and maidservants talking about you just as quietly as your fellow richmen are. They think us bizarre because we rather spend our time with ourselves and books and things. They fail to see how repulsive they can be. They don't see that there's nothing else in the outside world for us."

"Yes," Sigyn replied meekly, and she felt like a child again for some reason. "Exactly." There was a small spark of something in her at that moment. The feeling went away just as quickly as it came, though not unignored or forgotten. The Midgardian love story she read pops into her head again and just for a silly second, Sigyn actually wondered if this is how love like that started. She wondered if love had anything to do with the other person being able to say,_ 'I understand.'_

But again, that was just a silly passing second.

"See? I told you," Loki gave her a playful grin. "Friends."

_Yes. Just friends, _she thought.

"Now, let's get started on this," he continued. "The Third Eye is not some cheap charm any old farmer in Vanaheim can do."

* * *

Besides the Midgardian literature that Sigyn read every so often, there were other texts that she took a look at. There was so much more in the Asgardian library than what was available (or allowed) in Vanaheim.

Magic fascinated Sigyn to no end. Without it, the world was so one-dimensional, empty, white, bland. The routine, the sameness of all the days in both Asgard and Vanaheim flew colorfully by with those hours spent on sorcery.

She was worried that he might've grown tired of seeing her so much, spending so much time with a young girl instead of out claiming glory or whatever Thor and his company did. She brought it up once, whether she was bothering the prince or not with his teaching her all the time.

Loki was looking over the text instructions while Sigyn watched over the brew, glowing in the dim room.

"Bothering me? Nothing pleases me more. You think I would rather be outside with those brute fools, punching, drinking, and eating the centuries away?" chuckled Loki.

Partially, she had been right about Asgard being the same as Vanaheim–cooler weather, less sand, but boring and oppressive all the same. The difference, though–to have someone she didn't need to have trivial conversation with to laugh, didn't need to leave to midnight dances just for some excitement. She had someone now with common interests, someone who could nod in agreement at the pettiness of the high class.

Time passed. She wasn't sure of the exact increment, but Elga had voiced her notice of a change in Sigyn's general disposition.

"Are you feeling more at home in Asgard?"

"Why do you ask that?"

Elga shrugged, fixing Sigyn's braid. "No reason in particular, my lady. You just seem...better is all."

"The truth is, Elga," Sigyn admitted, "I believe so. Oh, I know I don't have a right to complain, but if only you knew how bleak the days are in Vanaheim–staring into that sea, feeling that humidity–bored of Vanaheim, bored of riches, bored of myself..."

"And Asgard is not like that?"

"Not so much so, anymore," beamed Sigyn.

"Did you make a friend, Princess?"

Sigyn turned to face the maid. "I did. But you know, you're my friend here, too, Elga."

"My lady, I am flattered."

And it was true. The other maids only every fussed over her with things that Sigyn didn't care about. Or they would pass wordlessly in and out of her room. Elga was ever the only one who actually spoke to her, helped her in her own way. She much preferred Elga's company to any of the other ladies. She would indeed consider Elga her friend.

And when she slept that night, after Elga had said good night, after she had brought out the book she hid under the bed, after she turned out the light with the simple de-illuminating charm she recently learned, and right before she falls asleep, she can't help but the contrast the differences between the light, trusting friendship she had with Elga and the more unsettling, exciting one she felt with Loki.

* * *

**(A/N): Well of course Freyja would! ****And how genuine do you actually think Loki's being with his betrothed? Haha.** Tried to describe the "Midgardian Literature" Sigyn was reading without mentioning any titles. Can you guess them all? 

**AND THANK YOU MY REVIEWERS. Those who have been reading and reviewing from the beginning and those of you who have just tuned in! A lot of you were kind enough to tell me politely the times I had put present tense instead of past tense in the last chapter which I appreciate. I do that a bit. Tell me if I did it again here. I don't really remember if any of you had any questions in the reviews, but if I failed to answer or respond, just ask again or ask on my tumblr (shameless plug). But I really don't think anyone's questions were so urgent in my reviews so :D**


	6. Rooms

**(A/N): I know that Vanaheim is known for certain specialties and that they were very skilled in magic and agriculture and that there were rifts between them and Asgard for a while. As always, put in a bit of mythology and the comic storyline and did my own thing with it just so everything you read in fics doesn't get too repetitive! I hope this isn't confusing.**

**Here we get some a small, small bit of Loki/Sigyn magic lessons/quality time and some juicy kind of gossip girl stuff going on with Asgards ladies. (Poor girls! What a male-dominated society they must live in. Though I doubt a lot of them complain. Do you think any of them notice at all the roles they've been reduced to? At least there are women and Sif and Frigga that exist. You _can _do things the boys do and be just as good if not better and you can also be the most refined, well-dressed, well-mannered woman and have the mightiest king of a husband and still be able to hold your own in a room.)**

**And do not fret! The fic gets more plot-driven as the story goes on. (Hopefully you a hint of where the plot is going in this chapter. Also, you may see more POVs as the story goes on, too. I started out with a little glimpse at the servants in Asgard and what they think of their richer Asgardians). **

**I know it must feel like nothing's happening. I just hope to get everyone's character and placement established and I don't want to rush things. Both Loki and Sigyn are far too intelligent and cynical to fall in love so fast.**

**As always, your suggestions and questions and reviews and critique is welcome. All of it helps, my readers :)**

* * *

Chapter V

* * *

From the low streets up to the halls of the palace, Asgard was abuzz with anticipation for Queen Frigga's annual ball. The event itself was still a while away, but that didn't stop it from being the point on everyone's lips. (When you weren't of high class, name a god of this or a goddess of that, there wasn't much left to do in Asgard than to talk about the ones that were.)

And so the palace kitchens were bustling with chatter of all sorts. Topics got jumbled so the servants would forget what they were in heated discussion about. Nevertheless, word always traveled fast in Asgard, and most of it was because the low class outnumbered the rich Aesir greatly. And they were _everywhere_.

"I hear the light show will be more spectacular than last year's," a manservant said to his fellow workers in the steamy kitchens of the palace, whom all joined in the talk simultaneously.

"Bet all of you that that will be the night Thor announces his engagement to Lady Sif!" another said. "I'm surprised they haven't said it yet."

"Bet as pretty as you and all the ladies from here to Vahalla and back, the prettiest is to be Lady Freyja. She always is!"

"Always Lady Freyja!" repeated one in the background piped.

"A Valkyrie? Married to Odin's heir?"

"Odin has _two heirs_."

"You can only have one _heir_. That's why they're called an _heir_–"

"What? And I suppose you want Loki as king, then?"

"If that means Freyja as queen..."

"I only meant–"

"Hush!" roared the head cook, who was annoyed to see maid and menservants alike amongst the kitchen workers and cleaners and stable-folk all gathered in the kitchen that was located in the basement of the palace. Everything was getting far too noisy for his liking. "I suggest you all get back to work and in your all's proper places 'til you get so caught up in party gossip and petty arguments that you ruin the celebration altogether with your yips! Off with you!"

The workers, though dismayed to have to cease their excitement, quickly scattered away, the rest going back to preparing supper.

* * *

"You must concentrate on being able to visualize location. Trying too hard obscures the clearness of the surroundings. The task must come from within you; all the substances are there, you need only command them."

While the rest of the realm was preoccupied with the annual ball, Sigyn had another thing on her mind. Well, several things–as Loki informed her.

Sigyn relaxed her tightly shut eyes, hands on either side of the steel bowl whose contents were glowing a silvery white. Loki's instructions drifted into the background of her hearing as an image began to form in the bowl, energy increasing from it.

They had been working on the Third Eye for quite some time ever since Sigyn had asked him. The first tries were completely embarrassing on Sigyn's part. Luckily, Loki was patient with her and told her to fret not–that there were few Alf steel crafts left and that she had more potential than anyone else he had met or come across when it came to sorcery.

"You've got it," he said as Sigyn slowly opened her eyes to see that, there, in the bowl, were the moving images of the people in the courtyard. From her sight, they appeared like insects crawling about the place, deep in the bowl. When she listened carefully, she could hear what they were saying. "As if I'm right there...watching them."

"Very good. Now try specifying who you wish to see."

"I can do that? Is this really–""

"Haven't you ever wondered what these ladies really say when you're not around?"

At Sigyn's look of hesitance, Loki added, "Give in, Sigyn. Just a little of fun."

"Right," Sigyn nodded, staring into the courtyard. "All right." She hadn't encountered anyone too outwardly pleasant (save Freyja, which Sigyn thought wiser not to mention). But women in both the courts of Asgard and Vanaheim had a way of seeming entirely different from their real selves. She knew that game.

She closed her eyes again. "Do I just think of who I want to focus on?" she said aloud.

"Picture who it is you want to see. Summon the Third Eye. Remember, _your_ command, Sigyn."

"My command," Sigyn repeated, feeling the magic from her mind flow to her hands, twisting the silver waters of the bowl as the images she desired appeared just as Loki said they would.

* * *

Loki was insisted upon by Freyja to spend some time with her around the palace (even though she took every chance she could get to get into his room). Since he had been spending less and less time with her as of late, Freyja began to get more anxious and more anxious to see him, he could tell.

He really didn't understand why she wanted to spend it this way–to walk through these halls that he's walked through since he was a child. He knew that she adored to be adored and probably found satisfaction in being envied.

Her reason she gave him was different. "This will be my home soon," she said, her eyes gliding over every detail of every room they passed. Something about her words made him feel strange, but he didn't think much of it. Freyja was merely stating the facts. "I thought I could visit you tonight, my prince. Wouldn't that be nice?"

They had passed around the corner from the courtyard where there was practically no one around. Loki thought it might be wise to discuss matters with Freyja here. She had quite a volume on her when she wanted.

Loki held her hand. "Perhaps another time, my dear. Aren't all the ladies planning to have drinks and gossip later?" Truthfully, that's all most of them ever did. Once in a while, they decided to schedule it and give it a name.

"I am going, but I was hoping to spend time with you afterwards," Freyja's voice became edgier.

"We'll have plenty of time together whenever we want," Loki said.

"You're–you're not getting _tired _of me, are you?" For once in her life, Loki thought Freyja sounded vulnerable.

"Never, my dear. You know I like studying alone. You'd find it quite tedious, I'm afraid."

Freyja didn't look convinced. "Are you sure you're studying alone?"

Though Loki felt himself freeze, he was careful not to show it, offering Freyja a grin. "Yes, quite sure."

Freyja only nodded as Loki placed a kiss on her hand and started to walk away from her. "You can tell me all about the ladies you and Dagny despise, later."

"You love me don't you, my prince?" Freyja called after him.

Loki turned his head slightly, sure to flash his best smile. "You are the only one I ever have and ever will, my dear Freyja." This seemed to convince her, Freyja smiling ever brighter than he was as Loki turned forward and resumed his steps.

Trickster, indeed.

* * *

A few ladies were gathered in one of the sitting rooms in the palace. The sky was dark, and so the only light was from the dim fireplace and random candles about the room. There was a table were five or so of them sat, playing some sort of game that involved cards and smooth stones. A couch seated a few more, as did a bunch of chairs, the circle full of giggles and chit chat. Everyone was standing around or sitting at other tables and chairs pretty much doing the same thing.

Sigyn was sitting quietly at the end of a couch while the woman next to her bumped into her once in a while, her arms flying about in animated descriptions.

_What did the men do in their spare time?_ Sigyn wondered. _Could it possibly be half as bizarre and snore-worthy as this? _At these times, she envied Lady Sif and the other Valkyries.

The sitting room was dim. Cool night-air drifted inside through the windows, chilling Sigyn's bare arms. The wine didn't do much to warm her. Never one fond of drinks. The girls seemed to be liking it, however. Some of them were drinking a little too much than even Sigyn considered for a proper lady to drink–which was saying a lot.

To add to her dampened mood, Freyja was included in the circle Sigyn had no recollection of joining in the first place. She just sort of came in and everyone just gathered around her. She hadn't intended on it; being the only young foreigner still had its attention-grabbing aspects. But there they were. Although they asked Sigyn many questions, and often turned to her to see how she'd react to certain bits of (petty) news, Freyja somehow managed to always gain the spotlight.

Strange. Sigyn was never one who tried exceedingly hard to win everyone's admirations. Mostly she stumbled through things, did what she wanted, and was nagged about it afterwards. This particular situation was different...as if Freyja's disgusting greed for adoration and popularity was making her crave some for herself. She had been shoved in the background most of her life and it never really bothered her until she met Freyja. (Who, by the way, was looking brilliant as ever.)

She heard, once, that Loki had cut off all of Lady Sif's hair as a prank and that it had been blonde back then, not so dissimilar to the Goddess of Beauty's coloring.

_There must be a spell, _Sigyn thought jokingly, _that just keeps the hair from growing back at all. What difference that would make. Everyone would act as fools before her anyway–_

"And what," said a twinkling voice sharply, "are you laughing about, Lady Sigyn?"

Sigyn didn't need to face the golden-haired goddess to know who was directing their annoyance at her.

"Laughing? Lady Freyja, I was merely enjoying your story." Had she been spending more time with Loki than she realized, because her lie came as perfectly as the innocent truth. "Is there impropriety in that?"

Freyja's fingers held the goblet in her hand tightly. Sigyn noted that that thing had been filled to the brim a few times this hour. "Yes, you would know all about impropriety, wouldn't you?"

Their conversation didn't stem from much, but Sigyn could tell it was getting very personal very fast. Had Loki told her how much time they'd been spending together? She highly doubted that. The thought did occur to Sigyn that perhaps Freyja just might have the smallest feeling anyway. She looked like the kind of lady that was keen on knowing what anyone thought of them. Especially the prince she was supposed to marry.

The girlish atmosphere in their part of the room faded suddenly then, and everyone who sat around were staring between Sigyn and Freyja.

"_I beg you pardon_?" Sigyn could even hear her own strained attempt to not sound offended.

"Oh, come, please, Lady Sigyn. Between us girls! Tell us exactly why Old King Iwaldi sent his youngest daughter far, far from the easy sands of Vanaheim into the upper ends of Aesir lands? Did you fall in love with a stable boy or some high lord that was already engaged? "

Sigyn could hardly believe her ears. "No, I–"

"What was it? One too many night parties? Too much mead? Or did you just get so spoiled sitting next to your king and queen mother that you had no regard for anyone else but yourself? I bet I got that one on the nose."

Even Dagny, Freyja's most loyal and close friend, interceded. "Freyja–Lady Freyja–I think–"

"No, no, Dagny, let's hear what our lady has to say about it all."

If Sigyn had still been in Vanaheim, she might've just asked the guard to take Freyja away. If she was still in Vanaheim, she might've planned a little hex to put on Njord's precious daughter when no one was looking. But she wasn't. That was part of the reason she was sent to Asgard in the first place. She would not let that happen here.

Part of it was because Sigyn was actually trying to please her parents. Another, smaller, part of it was because she knew that if she _did _make the same mistakes is Asgard, she'd be sent back to Vanaheim, back to having nothing to do, back to the sweltering heat, back to Theoric.

Back and without the best, most understanding person she'd ever met.

Sigyn abruptly stood, Freyja smirking at her as Sigyn remained wordless. She had no idea what to say and, thankfully, she didn't have to because at that moment, the door to the sitting room opened.

The queen entered then and the occupants addressed her with the most respect Sigyn's ever seen from these ladies of Asgard. More so than they ever gave to Freyja. Soon, Sigyn wasn't the only one standing. They all curtsied as Frigga passed, nodding politely.

Even for her age, Sigyn thought the queen was beautiful. Neither her sons had taken after her appearance, though Loki was most like her in regards to how she carried herself and how she spoke–with sureness and charm.

"My Lady Queen," said Freyja, curtsying, and the ladies in Sigyn's circle (including Sigyn) did the same.

"My dear ladies," Frigga replied, smiling."What are we busying our talk with?"

Sigyn pursed her lips and the rest of the ladies looked to Freyja, who said, "Your Majesty, we were merely asking our dear friend Sigyn here about her home-realm and how she was faring in Asgard."

Frigga's smile was still there. "How kind of you, Freyja, to be so thoughtful to our Princess Sigyn here. Come, come, you will make room for your old queen, won't you? I do miss when I was a young lady and we used to gather in here like this." Dagny let Frigga take her chair and sat on the armrest of the couch as the queen sat beside them.

"And how are you finding Asgard, Princess?"

"Very well, My Lady Queen. Everyone has turned out to be a lot nicer than I hoped, which is a fortunate thing, for a foreigner like me." Sigyn saw Freyja relax in the corner of her eye.

They went on, Sigyn, Frigga, and the rest of the ladies, speaking about light matters. With the queen around, Sigyn found the rest of the ladies to be friendlier. She wondered, as a princess of her own realm, if she'd ever gain that kind of respect.

The way everyone smiled and seemed more at ease–though they were careful to be well-mannered as well–Sigyn had come to a realization. She _wanted _that. The affect Queen Frigga had on an individual, a small room full of Asgardian ladies, and even big gatherings. Hardly anyone every looked at Sigyn like that.

The ladies soon started to bid each other well as they went on home or about other places in the palace. Sigyn had been surreptitiously making her way to the study when Frigga's voice called out behind her.

"Princess Sigyn?"

Sigyn halted and turned around to face the queen. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

Frigga regarded her warmly. "Do visit me. I would love your company around Asgard. As a guest and daughter to two of my oldest friends, I hope you feel just as home here as you do in your realm."

"My queen, such would please me greatly." Sigyn curtsied and bid farewell to Frigga as she went back on her way, in a happier manner than she had been in only moments earlier.

* * *

Loki was in the study already when Sigyn got there, instruments and beakers and scrolls strewn about. Upon seeing her, the prince smiled and Sigyn couldn't help but return the gesture.

"How was spending an hour with Asgard's chattiest birds?"

Sigyn rolled her eyes and took a seat on the top of the table where Loki worked. "Honestly, I think there are very little differences between the fairer sex in every realm."

Loki laughed. "You're not so much like them. You're not so much like anyone. Freyja's closer to that breed, though I do think she has more wits about her. She was there, wasn't she?"

Sigyn tried to hide her darkened look. "She was, yes."

Loki seemed to not even need to look at her expression. "What did she do?"

"No. No, she was kind. Always is."

"Always?" Loki smirked then.

"What's this then?" Sigyn looked down at Loki's work to change the subject.

He said something about the types of magic he had been trying out for a while now. Though most of the realms used magic, each realm had their own unique techniques. On the topic, Loki had asked what she knew of Vanir magic.

"Not much," she said after a few moments thought. Sigyn never really knew much of Vanir magic. All she ever saw was what the peasants would do to help grow vegetables and keep the land well-kept.

"You should think to look further into it," said Loki. "You never know. Vanir magic is very foreign to me. Asgardian techniques are hard enough to master."

"Hard to imagine Vanir techniques are any more exciting," said Sigyn, though the curiosity was sparked in her anyway. She really didn't know anything that particularly held to Vanir magic. She knew the simple spells that Loki knew as well, things that weren't really categorized as Vanir.

So the next trip to the library alone (when Loki was off on some princely business or other) Sigyn paid close attention to the sorcery sections as well as the Vanaheim Histories. The first couple books she went through were more of the same things she learned in tutoring. What she did find on Vanir magic advised plant-growing procedures and shaping conditions to produce the best crops.

_Same things they taught me_ Sigyn thought, going through the quantitive passages of Vanaheim's reputation as an agricultural capital.

And then she came upon a peculiar excerpt that lead her to an even older scroll, written about events that came eons before Odin.

The excerpt read:

_...Asgard and Vanaheim became friendly realms after successions of the Old Sorcerer Kings had been overthrown during the beginning of Odin of Asgard's reign. The Old Sorcerer Kings had ruled in their domain and over even Asgard. In their line had defeated countless armies of inner a regions and outer realms, conquered and made a conquest of many...Vanaheim–a kingdom with two regions–came to a treaty with Asgard once Iwaldi and Odin took the throne, reducing the practice and education of magic to practical means and given only to peasants to continue the Vanir's production of crops..._

Then the rest of the passage spoke about facts Sigyn already knew and only one phrase stood at too her.

_Old Sorcerer Kings? _Sigyn thought. That was a term she'd never heard before. _Reducing the practice and education of magic to practical means? _That meant that sorcery didn't always solely lie with the crop tenders and street healers and other lower class of people she wasn't allowed to interact with.

There was never much said about the kings before her father. He and Odin had been around long before, before the Frost Giant battles on Midgard, before Asgard and Vanaheim were allies, and apparently before Vanaheim's realm-strengths were reduced to peasants' work. Sorcerer Kings? Sigyn had never heard of such a thing! In the societies of Vanaheim and Asgard, warriors honor was what made legends, what made the Nine Realms know you were to be respected. Practitioners of magic were frowned upon, seen as useless and strange–which was why Prince Loki seemed inferior to Thor. Sigyn knew that. Magic wasn't non-existent in places like Loki's and Sigyn's home-realms, it was just a subject that others didn't understand.

Sigyn felt her brain rewiring. _But...but we were never told this. We...How could so much be discovered in only a few phrases? There has to be more about this...All that time...All those lectures about magic being nonsense, about my duties to the House of Iwaldi...Magic for child's play? Magic for the poor folk? They've got it all wrong...we've got it all wrong. Why is this hidden away in forgotten histories and dusty archives? _

"That's impossible," Sigyn whispered to herself. Vanaheim? Known as a powerhouse to leaders of the magic folk? What would her mother Queen say?

She decided needed to know more about this. What such a short part of a small excerpt revealed. She looked to the older books, the older scrolls. There had to be more about Vanaheim.

Thankfully, the end of the passage noted a previous work which Sigyn went around the shelves to look for; all other readings she had found so far said very little about Asgard and Vanaheim's past. Odin had ruled for so long now, and she'd only ever known her father as king, it was hard to imagine the brassy build of Asgard and the humid beaches of Vanaheim were anything different to what Sigyn was familiar with.

And so Loki had been right. There was magic in her lineage. Not just in regards to the peasants, but from the actual royal line. She doubts that even Loki truly knew the extent of it–that there were warlock kings and that the high class were well-educated and highly skilled in the arts of sorcery as well all before Odin was ever even on the throne. She wonders how her father held such an important part of what Vanaheim once was to himself, how any of the elders did. If they did, why hadn't they said anything? Why had the fact that sorcery was such an integral part of the Vanir been so forgotten amongst the history?

Sigyn found it in her to know more as something insider her stirred, an old energy that once ruled Vanaheim, that once had Vanaheim vying for the ruling-kindom in all the World Tree. Magic was not only something she loved, but something that was a part of her. Perhaps she knew, even as a small child in the garden, just how much magic would come to mean to her–how it had always meant something to her.

* * *

**(A/N): Read and Review!**

**And yes, most of you guessed what books Sigyn was reading the last chapter. That means my summaries weren't off the mark ;)**

**I wonder, then, what our heroine is going to do with this new information?**


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